I'll Drown
by easyHarlequin
Summary: "Feliciano has a nightmare and has to remember if it's real or not." I'm really bad at summaries please just read it. Oneshot. Chibitalia/HRE. I always try to imply that HRE is Germany but I guess I forgot to. Please review! Cute little romance/friendship or profound bond sort of deal.


**AN: **one of my otps and i've never written anything for them! i'm going to be honest and say that i'm having a horrible night, and this is purely stress relief. but i really want some reviews on this! suggested listening is 'I'll Drown - Sóley' i was listening to this song to try to write another chapter for jsats but this happened instead.

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The hallway was silent with the exception of bare feet tapping on the wooden floor. Mr. Austria had advised against wandering the halls at night, he had told Feliciano that it was a very bad thing to do, and that if anyone ever caught him he would be in very big trouble. Feliciano did not know what 'very big trouble' meant but it was probably worse than 'a little trouble'.

'A little trouble' Feliciano could always handle. But the 'Very big trouble' was another story altogether. His brother had gotten into 'very big trouble' when he had lived there, and then Mr. Austria had given him away. So Feliciano had tried to never get into 'very big trouble'. But that wasn't what was bothering him.

What bothered him was something intangible – he could not shove it away. His small, pale fingers delved into it and then right through it, and it only made him cry. Feliciano had sat in his bed with the sheets tangled up in his legs, and his cheeks hot and damp as the rest of his nightmare faded out of his subconscious and into the air around him.

Then he had slid off of his bed and that was why he was wandering the halls. That's what he would tell Mr. Austria if he found him. He had a nightmare and was only going for a walk and he did not deserve to get into 'very big trouble'.

There were no candles lit in the hallway, so the only light was provided by the moon. The wind outside moved the trees and they, in turn, moved the shadows that were shaped like ghastly ghosts and gnarled hands. Feliciano tried his hardest not to scream as he walked faster and tippy-toed around the looming figures he thought were reaching out for him. He kept his head down and peered under the spaces of the doors, looking for candlelight.

A light pulsed underneath one of the cracks in the door, and it filled Feliciano with hope and a little bit of happiness when he realized whose room it was. The door was partially open and it opened soundlessly when Feliciano pushed on it. The room opened up only a little bit, and it was drafty in there, too – the window was open a little bit. It let the autumn chill find its way inside.

The blond-haired boy was sitting at the desk that had been crammed into the corner of the room. In his hand was a pen and it scrawled across the paper in a very businesslike manner – and his eyebrows were knotted together in concentration and he didn't even notice when Feliciano stepped into his room.

Feliciano walked over to the other's bed – which was still made – and grabbed the hem of his nightdress and pulled it up so he wouldn't trip on it as he crawled onto the other's bed. He had grown accustomed to the wardrobe Ms. Héderváry had chosen for him, but sometimes it felt inconvenient and even a little bit silly. Now he pried the sheets and the comforter back from underneath the pillows and plunged his legs down into the fabric. He pulled the covers up to his chin and buried his face in the other's pillow.

Feliciano's eyes were so heavy and his limbs were so dreary that he was practically asleep when the blond-haired boy turned around and actually _noticed_ him. He was vaguely awake; the same way that the little blond-haired, blue-eyed boy was vaguely shocked. Vaguely numb as his black socked feet hit the cold floor and he walked up to his bed that was much too big for him – like a great tower with a damsel at the top of it.

Feliciano could feel the bed sink under the other's knees as he pulled himself up. He allowed himself to open his eyes and look up into the other's bright, crystal blue ones. They were squinting, and skeptical. Feliciano smiled and the other became flustered.

"You aren't supposed to be here. Don't you know who I am? I'm the-"

_"Empire."_ He whispered and his doe eyes never left the other's face. "Yes, you're the empire, but I know you get the nightmares just like I do. I just needed to know that you were all right."

It was hard to remember that they weren't really children. They were much older than children. Feliciano wasn't as clueless as he looked, and the blue-eyed boy only sighed and collapsed next to the other, shimmying under the sheets and pulling them around his neck. Right then he didn't feel like an empire. He felt really small. So small and very cold. He also felt loved, and that was the best thing.

Feliciano got closer and touched their foreheads together. His eyes looked old and troubled then, and his hands lingered in the space between them.

"You're always going to come back, right?"

"I-"

"You have to promise me. You have to cross your heart." Feliciano murmured underneath the water building up in his eyes. He felt like he was choking when he started to sob. He could see the pale outline of the other's hand underneath the sheets and above his chest – he crossed his heart.

Feliciano felt arms wrap around him and pull him closer and into a warm embrace. No more words were said as Feliciano closed his eyes and nuzzled into the ruffles of the other's nightshirt. He wrapped his arms around the other's waist as he slipped farther into sleep.

At least now he felt like he was _also _drowning in a dark sea. The dark sea of the inevitable, of the great cold Earth they were planted in, and of the black nightclothes that little boy he was hugging so tightly wore. He felt like the little blond-haired boy who he loved so much wasn't alone anymore. Because he would always be there for him when he woke, and he would always be there for him when he came marching back.

_If he came marching back._


End file.
